A few days ago, as I was writing,
A thought drifted through my mind:
What does a newborn baby experience
When they leave the warmth of the womb?
Is it like stepping out of a steaming shower
On a biting cold winter day?
Or does it feel like rising from bed,
When you’d been wrapped in comfort?
I wonder if some people remember,
And if they regret being born—
Or if they resent us from pulling them out
Of the only safe place they may ever know.

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